


Prettier Than a Flower

by Woofemus



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, Spoilers for Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-23 01:28:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20883914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Woofemus/pseuds/Woofemus
Summary: Oh, Bernadetta really should have stayed inside her room, because then she wouldn't have been attacked by a monster and left laying here on the ground.





	Prettier Than a Flower

**Author's Note:**

> you ever just get possessed by an idea and immediately write it all up because that happened here

There’s a lot of things Bernadetta should have done differently.

Maybe she should have stayed in her room that day instead of going outside. Oh, but no, she couldn't have done that, not when she was already trying her best to go outside to talk to her friends and everyone else in the army, and _someone_, either the professor the Caspar, would come to drag her out later.

Maybe she should have volunteered for cleaning for mess hall instead, but Mercedes had immediately jumped in on that task, and so did Ferdinand, dragging a Linhardt who looked like he’d just woken up from a nap and that was all the volunteers they needed. No more space for Bernadetta!

Or, maybe, just maybe, Bernadetta should have thrown herself to the right instead of the left and _maybe_ she wouldn’t be laying on the ground bleeding out like this.

Her head is spinning, and she thinks there’s too much light. Everywhere hurts so much that she’s not even sure what’s even hurting at this point. She just wants to close her eyes. Maybe that’ll be easier. If she closes her eyes, she can go to sleep, and all this pain won’t even matter anymore… that’d be nice, except she thinks there’s a voice yelling at her.

_“Bernadetta, if you don’t come out right this second, I’m breaking the door! Stand back—” _

Wait, that’s Ingrid’s voice instead, and that was last week.

And, well, she’s more than glad that Ingrid patched up her door. Even oiled it too so that it’d stop creaking and scaring her in the middle of the night whenever she wanted to sneak out for a drink of water at the kitchen.

But, wait, she’s not even going to be able to enjoy that anymore. She’s… not… going to be able to go back to her room anymore… all because… of some stupid monster…

Why did it have to come out right at this time anyway!? Stupid giant wolf! It was supposed to be a simple bandit raid! But, no, the wolf had to come crashing out of the forest, right on top of poor Bernie! All she had then was just a moment’s notice to get out of the way before the giant claws shadowing her split her right in half down the middle!

… did that happen? It feels like it did. Bernadetta tries to move her head, to see where the rest of her body is. She can’t move it far, but all she can see is her bow, which is now splintered and broken on the ground. Oh, no, the professor gave that to her as a gift, how can she face her now? But she doesn’t see any leg or arm, so… maybe she’s in one piece still?! She tries to move her hand, but that hurts, and it feels wet and slippery. Probably the blood?

The blood.

At least the dumb wolf is gone. She’d heard someone yelling and a bunch of stomping, and then the wolf ran away. How nice of it to leave Bernie bleeding out on the ground!

Her head falls back down. It makes the spinning worse, but only a little, before it goes back to being a little bit less worse. Bernadetta groans again, trying to move but she can barely even lift her finger at this point. It looks like there’s a ton of bright birds flying around in her eyes. Her eyes try to follow them, but it makes her even dizzier.

And, oh, it _hurts._

Wait, no, she’s—she’s gotta stay awake! It’s bad for her to fall asleep!

… is it? She’s _really_ tired, and it _really_ hurts, and if she goes to sleep, she won’t feel it anymore. Maybe just a little bit? A little bit? It’s okay for her to go to sleep, right? It’s fine, right? She just wants to close her eyes for a little bit. She’ll open her eyes after a few seconds, she promises!

Her eyes start to close—

Something grabs her shoulder and starts to shake her.

—and she snaps them open, gasping when she’s being shook.

“Bernadetta?! Oh, Bernadetta!”

Bernadetta blinks a lot. She’s still really dizzy, but she can see something kinda purple, which can’t be her, and the only other purple person is—

“P-Petra?” she croaks, trying to squint through the brightness. Now that she recognizes who’s in front of her, she can focus and make out Petra’s face, who looks relieved with a smile.

Bernadetta thinks she’s never seen anyone so beautiful in her life.

“Ah! Bernadetta, you are awake! I will be applying a vulnerary to you.” Petra moves away, and before Bernadetta can ask what she’s doing, there’s pressure along her body, which makes her body hurt more.

“O-ow…” she’s too hurt to even shout, her eyes squeezing shut as she tries to grit her teeth through the pain.

“I am sorry, but you are very wounded. Please endure a little longer,” Petra says in a quiet voice. Bernadetta slowly opens her eyes. The light seems to gather around Petra, and she seems shiny. Is she like an angel? One of the Goddess’ messengers? Wait, but Petra doesn’t believe in the Goddess, so what does that make her then? Maybe she should ask so she doesn’t offend Petra’s feelings, except a sharp pulse of pain makes her gasp and she forgets every single thought she’s just had.

“I am done, you will be fine until the healers come, Bernadetta,” Petra says, leaning back with a tired smile. Bernadetta strains to hear her. It sounds like she’s so far away, like she’s an echo inside the cathedral and also underwater at the same time. Is that possible? It must be, if that’s how Petra sounds right now.

“Thanks, Petra,” she says, except she’s not really sure if she’s actually said or thought it, but she can see Petra nod, or… do something, Bernadetta isn’t too sure. There’s like maybe six Petras right now and she’s not sure which one is the real one. They're all very pretty still, she thinks offhandedly.

Petra is still sticking around. Bernadetta thought she would leave, but she’s still staying next to Bernadetta, and, oh, she’s moving Bernadetta’s hair back on her face and patting it with a cloth. It feels nice. Bernadetta likes that.

But, wait, why is Petra still staying here? Aren’t there more bandits to take care of? And what happened to that dumb wolf?! What if it comes back? She doesn’t want Petra to be caught off guard, although that’s very unlikely. She thinks Petra could march right up to the wolf and still ambush it in plain sight. Petra’s always done that to Bernadetta at least. But she’s been getting better at it, making some sort of noise now when she gets close to Bernadetta. That’s nice of her. Petra is so nice. She’s not scary at all like Bernadetta once thought she was.

Wait, that doesn’t answer why Petra is still here. Bernadetta groans again, trying to lift her hand—she feels Petra take it, holding it gently.

“Shh, shh,” she hears Petra say. “Do not use your energy, please be resting for now.”

“You should… just leave me here, Petra,” Bernadetta rasps out. “Poor Bernie’s going… to die anyway.”

“No!” Petra shouts at her that Bernadetta startles—oh, she regrets doing that because pain flashes through her for a very quick second before it turns back into an aching throb. But she’s never heard Petra make such a loud noise before. She’s always so quiet. “Please do not be speaking like that. The healers will be coming.”

“That’s… that’s okay, Petra. You don’t… have to… stay here, r-really.” Bernadetta wants her to leave. Petra shouldn’t be here, she should be out in battle instead, not witnessing Bernadetta’s sad last moments.

Didn’t even get to die at home! How pathetic of her! Bernie really just is so useless like her father said! Couldn't even be a good wife! Oh, she really should have just listened to him, she should’ve just stayed at home—

Wait, but her father got arrested while he was at home.

Hmmm.

But, well, now she’s out here now, bleeding out in the middle of nowhere, forcing Petra to watch over her. It was supposed to be something easy, something simple, something that Bernadetta couldn’t mess up. Not that she was messing up a lot recently, she was doing it a lot less! But, bandits weren’t that _hard_ to deal with, and she was also with the other soldiers, and with their professor, and with Petra too. Nothing was supposed to go wrong!

Except, well, it does, she finds out too late.

“Stupid… wolf,” Bernadetta mumbles, frowning. She’s getting angry now the more that she thinks about it. Who’s going to take care of all her plants at the monastery?! Who’s going to take care of all her stuffed animals?! Who’s going to take her sketchbooks and help her burn them because she’s _not_ leaving that out to the public?

What if they show that to everyone at her funeral?!

Wait.

_What about her manuscripts?!_

No, no, no, no no no _no_—

A strangled squeal comes out of her throat. She doesn't see Petra startling.

Oh, no, she can’t have that at all, no, _no_. She can’t die now, not before she sets the fire herself to those books! Absolutely not! She can't do that!

“Bernadetta, are you doing fine?” Petra is leaning over her again, worried. Bernadetta blinks, all her thoughts gone now at the sound of Petra’s voice. What was she mad about again?

“I’m… uh, okay,” she says. “I’m just… really tired, though. Can… can I take a nap?”

Petra takes her hand again. “Please, be staying with me,” she says. She still sounds like she’s far away even though Bernadetta knows she’s right next to her. That’s kind of weird, but that just might be all the blood she’s lost. She wonders how big a puddle it is.

“I’m… I’m just… really tired. I wanna… wanna nap. Just a little bit... “ she coughs, and wants to cry at the taste of iron in her mouth. Well, she's felt like she's wanted to cry for a long time anyway, tears falling. “There’s… nothing else for… poor Bernie anyway…”

“The plants in Brigid,” Petra says suddenly.

“The… t-the plants?” The sudden change in topic always makes Bernadetta feel the whiplash right in her neck. Maybe she is. It kind of hurts too.

“Yes. They are very beautiful, and you have not seen them, no?”

“Didn’t… didn’t… we see them before? When… when we went to… see your grandpa...”

“Yes, but that was only for a short time. I wish for you to stay there and see them.”

“R-really…?” Petra’s words are true, Bernadetta didn’t really get to see them since they only stopped for a short time. That… that’d be nice… she wants to… see them again.

“Bernadetta, I have a great desire for you to see them. So please… do not be dying on me before I can take you to see them.”

“Okay… Petra… I’ll…” Bernadetta pauses to cough, nearly spitting out the blood into Petra’s face. That wouldn’t be nice at all, not when Petra’s just been so kind to her. “I’ll try,” she wheezed out.

And she does, oh, does she really. Petra is still brushing her hair back, and she’s saying something Bernadetta doesn’t understand. Actually, she can’t understand what Petra is saying—she’s singing, and she’s singing in her own language.

It’s much different from Fodlan’s. It sounds nice, though. Bernadetta feels her eyes trying to close—wait, she can’t do that, she promised Petra she’d stay awake. But, oh, it sounds so nice… maybe… just a little… bit?

The sound of hooves beating against the ground reaches Bernadetta’s ears. It’s loud, like a clap of thunder. It seems to make it shake, and it makes her think of her father, and now she wants to curl into a ball and hide—

But Petra’s still got her hand, and she’s holding it tight, which means her father isn’t here, and the horse is—

Green light fills her sight, then. Oh, a healer. That’s nice. Someone finally came. Petra’s talking again, but Bernadetta really can’t hear her anymore. But the pain hurts a little bit less than it did, although she still can’t move at all. Her head is spinning even more. She can’t keep her eyes open any longer. She wants to apologize to Petra, but she can’t even focus right now. She’s getting healed, but she also feels like she’s getting close to dying too. Bernadetta’s never been this hurt before. Is this normal?

Her eyes finally close. The darkness feels so much nicer. There’s dots behind her eyelids and it still makes her feel so dizzy but it’s better than that bright light.

Well… even if she does die, Petra being the last thing she’ll see and hear… isn’t that bad...

* * *

Bernadetta wakes up in the infirmary.

She blinks, trying to see where she is, and-oh, there it is, the _pain_. She makes an embarrassingly high pitched noise, hissing afterward.

The door abruptly opens, and Petra comes running in with eyes wide. “Bernadetta? Is everything fine? You are not hurt?!”

“P-Petra?” Bernadetta squints her eyes at her. “If you’re here, that means I’m not dead right?”

And at that, Petra laughs, a smile coming onto her face. “No, of course not. You are still very much alive.” She comes closer to Bernadetta’s bedside, taking the seat next to it.

“I have brought this for you,” Petra says, and she holds out one of Bernadetta’s potted carnivorous plants in her hands. “I have thought that you will be feeling lonely when you are in here, so I have brought you this to, ah, cheer you up.”

“Oh…” Bernadetta doesn’t really know what to say. She’s so shocked that someone like Petra would do something so nice for her, even if they’re former classmates, and now comrades in war. “No one’s ever… done anything so nice like that.” And she can’t help but ask, “Why?”

Petra blinks at her like she’s confused. “You ask me why? Because I care for you a lot, Bernadetta,” she answers right away. “We are at war, but I will be very sad if you die.” Her face falls slightly.

Bernadetta feels guilty for asking now. “I, um,” and Bernadetta looks away, very embarrassed. “I’m glad you didn’t… give up on me, Petra. Thank you for… staying with me that time. And, I’ll be, um, sad too, if you died.”

Petra smiles, something that Bernadetta can see out of the corner of her eyes. “Our feelings are the same. So, please do not be asking me to abandon you. I have made a promise to take you to see the plants of Brigid.”

“I, uh, yes, okay, I won’t.” Bernadetta knows she’ll forget and it’ll come out as a reflex, but she wants to promise, and she also wants to try too for Petra’s sake. It’s always been easier to do things for someone else than herself.

Bernadetta looks up at Petra, and smiles, and when Petra smiles back, there’s something warm the seems to kick through Bernadetta. It’s a nice feeling. As nice as Petra’s singing. As nice as Petra is. As nice as the plant Petra is holding—

Wait, Petra is _still_ holding her plant.

“You can put it down here,” Bernadetta hurriedly says, gesturing to the table next to her. “U-um, if you could also come by every few hours and take it out so it can get some food too… please,” she adds.

Petra nods. “Yes, I will be more than pleased to help you.”

Petra’s just so _kind_, Bernadetta thinks. She really likes Petra, and she hopes Petra likes her as much as she likes Petra. Otherwise, that’s going to be awkward, and Bernadetta is just going to have to hide in her room for the rest of the war and afterward as well.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Bernadetta?” Petra asks, then, and Bernadetta nearly screams because she kind of forgot Petra was there. But, Petra is looking at her so nicely, so gently, and, oh, Bernie’s just never going to get used to this at all.

“W-well… um, can you tell me about the, um, plants?” she asks. “I-if you’re not too busy, of course! W-well, I mean, of course you must be, you probably just only wanted to stop here for a few seconds and then, oh, no, I’ve kept you far longer and I’m so sorry—”

“Bernadetta.” And there it is, Petra’s hand on hers again. “I am having a lot of time now, but I will always have time to talk about Brigid.” And, for the very first time, Bernadetta sees how Petra’s eyes are shining with excitement.

Oh. Well… if… if Petra says she’s okay with it then… then…! Bernie’s going to listen as much as she can!

Except she soon falls asleep.

But Petra keeps coming by to talk, even more about Brigid even after she stops talking about the plants and that doesn’t bother Bernadetta at all, she sees how excited Petra is. Bernadetta’s never been much for talking except when scared, but she likes listening to Petra. And, how could she stop her anyway, not when Petra looks so happy?

And, once Bernadetta’s feeling a little bit better but still too hurt to get out of the infirmary, she asks Petra to bring her sketchbook (but only if it’s just not too much trouble—oh, she really shouldn’t have bothered Petra at all and now she’s mad and stormed out the door because Bernie’s being too selfish—oh, Petra is back with her sketchbook.)

Bernadetta had wanted to draw the plants Petra had told her, but when she opens her sketchbook, her hands are already sketching something else entirely, and it only really hits her like one of her training spear mishaps when she realizes what she’s drawn.

It's a picture of Petra and her smile, which is _definitely_ not a flower... but Bernadetta thinks this is just as pretty as a flower too, if not more.


End file.
